


Kukalaka Hurt/Comfort

by plain_and_simple_tailor (ectogeo)



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: But also, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Sewing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, bc I can't seem to resist putting getting together flashbacks into established relationship fics, it's really heavy-handed with the sappiness, lowkey angst (because it's Garak), mention of past drug addiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:47:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27689834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ectogeo/pseuds/plain_and_simple_tailor
Summary: As they slept, Kukalaka was pulled in opposing directions, caught in the crossfire of their doting affection, and the old worn threads connecting his arm to his body ripped apart easily.After a cuddling mishap, Garak offers to repair Kukalaka, then muses fondly about his relationship with Julian.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 27
Kudos: 69





	Kukalaka Hurt/Comfort

Julian was lying on his back, with Kukalaka tucked under his arm and pressed tightly to his chest. One of Garak’s arms was draped across Julian and Kukalaka, and one of his legs was tangled in between Julian’s. Garak’s nose was nuzzled into the side of Julian’s neck, and the fine hairs of his mammalian lover moved with each of Garak’s breaths.

Deep in his sleep, Julian rolled onto his side, seemingly trying to slot himself even further into Garak’s embrace by pressing his back into Garak’s chest. He took Kukalaka with him as he turned over. Unfortunately, Garak, who remained stationary, was still holding onto the teddy bear. Kukalaka was pulled in opposing directions, caught in the crossfire of their doting affection, and the old worn threads connecting his arm to his body ripped apart easily.

Two sets of eyes snapped open at the sound. Julian twisted around and sat up. Garak was pulled up too as Julian moved around under him, and he disentangled himself so that they were sitting side-by-side. Julian was the first to understand what had happened. 

“Oh noooo, poor Kukalaka,” he said, looking down at his one-armed teddy bear. 

Garak looked at the dismembered limb still gripped in his hand and his eyes widened.

“Oh, Julian, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Oh, don’t apologize to me, apologize to Kukalaka!” Julian teased, waggling Kukalaka’s good arm accusingly at Garak.

Garak’s brow furrowed at the strange request, but he went ahead. “I’m sorry, Kukalaka.”

“Oh, no, no, I meant it as a joke, because Kukalaka isn’t... he can’t really be hurt. I was trying to say that you truly don’t have anything to apologize for at all.”

“But I ripped your precious teddy bear apart. It’s my fault...”

“It’s really no problem, my love,” Julian reassured him, placing a warm hand on Garak’s arm. “I’ve fixed up my favorite little surgery patient many times before and I am sure I will have to do so many times more after this.”

“Julian...”

“Yes, my love?”

“I know Kukalaka is very important to you, but would you allow me to repair him?” he asked tentatively. “I’m certainly no surgeon, but I have shown some promise in my career as a tailor.”

Julian smiled. “Stop it with the false modesty, you know that you’re an AMAZING tailor. But there is only one qualification that really matters: Do you swear to put all of your love into every stitch?”

“Of course.”

“Then, please, go ahead! I’m sure Kukalaka will be honored to be in your capable hands!” He kissed Kukalaka on the top of his head, then held him out to Garak, who took him gently.

“Thank you, my dear.” Garak felt warm and loved. _Thank you for once again entrusting me with your heart_. “Now while I fix him up, do try to go back to sleep... You have actual surgeries to perform in the morning.”

“Oh fine. I _guess_ I can try to sleep without cuddling you or Kukalaka but it won’t be easy.”

Garak smiled fondly as his sleepy and pouty lover slid himself back under the covers. Despite his claim, Julian was already drifting off to sleep again as Garak slipped out of bed and moved quietly into the main room of their quarters.

He brought the pieces of Kukalaka over to his sewing table in the corner. He ran his hands over the toy. The fur was soft, worn smooth and ragged by Julian’s touch. Still slightly warm from Julian’s body heat.

Garak felt a great kinship with Kukalaka. He, too, was perceived by Julian to be beautiful and worth loving, despite being merely a threadbare washed-out version of a once dangerous and monstrous creature. He, too, felt warmed by Julian’s love. He felt softened and smoothed and changed by him. Julian had put Garak back together and patched him up so many times over the years. And in turn he’d been there whenever Julian had needed someone to hold him and love him unconditionally.

He replicated some new stuffing for the arm to replace what had fallen out. He emptied the arm out and then refilled it, until it was plump and soft.

He decided that, if Julian would allow it, he would like to someday remove all of Kukalaka’s raggedy old stuffing and give him a proper wash before restuffing him. (There was only so much grime that could be sonically removed from fabric.)

Perhaps he would also ask Julian about the idea of placing a little stuffed heart inside the bear while it was opened up for restoration. He had heard of this practice while repairing Molly’s stuffed targ a few weeks ago, and he kept meaning to tell Julian about it, so that he could ask what he thought of the idea. Garak expected he would agree.

He thought about all the ways he and Julian had made changes and improvements to each other’s lives. He had worked hard over the years to take from Julian the burdens and pressures placed on him by his parents, and replace them with the idea that who he was was enough, and had always been enough. In turn, Julian had taken away Garak’s dependence on the implant that had once promised to make the cold isolation of exile bearable, if short-lived. Julian had not only physically healed him, but also replaced the emptiness in Garak with lunchtime literary debates and enjoyable company and warm embraces. Julian had also done his best to remove Garak’s tendency toward self-sacrifice and deference to authority, and had attempted to fill him back up with a new appreciation of what was important and how to set healthier boundaries.

Garak loved that they constantly renewed and restored each other, and pushed each other to be better and made space for each other to heal. And it thrilled him that it was an ongoing effort that would never be over. They would have a lifetime together of learning and growing and _becoming_. He hoped their relationship would last a lifetime anyway.

Garak matched the color of the thread to Kukalaka’s fur, or rather, the color he imagined that the fur used to be, based on the underside of the fabric. He threaded the needle, looped the ends of the thread around his pointer finger, and then rolled the loop back and forth a few times with his thumb to create a tangled knot big enough not to pull through the fabric.

He fondly remembered a time, years ago, when Julian had brought his teal-shouldered Starfleet uniform to Garak’s shop for mending.

*

Garak examined the garment. The tear was so linear and cut so cleanly that it would be easy to fix. Garak could have sewn it up in seconds with his handheld auto-stitcher, but he couldn’t pass up the chance to impress Julian, who was standing nearby and watching him eagerly. He wanted to put on a show for his attentive audience of one. He decided a ladder stitch would be appropriately dramatic.

He pushed the needle in and out on alternate sides of the tear. He left trails of thread behind each time he crossed the tear, until the thread loosely spanned the gaping slash at evenly-spaced intervals. At the final moment, Garak pulled the thread taut with a flourish and the gap sealed up perfectly, leaving the seam nearly invisible.

He finished off the end to keep the thread from pulling free, and looked up at Julian to see if he’d managed to impress him at all. Julian’s eyes were wide, and it seemed like he’d been holding his breath.

“Wow, Garak! That’s the exact same stitch we use to close up people’s skin after surgery, just before we use the dermal regenerator!” Coming from anyone else it would have sounded sarcastic, but Julian was all enthusiasm.

Garak laughed, mostly at himself for the absurdity of thinking he could dazzle his dear doctor with his plain, simple tailoring skills. But despite the lack of novelty to Julian, it clearly wasn’t mundane to him—there was wonder in his hazel eyes, and fascination in his voice.

“I had hoped to impress you, but you are already quite the expert, it seems. ...Did you stitch _me_ up like this?” He touched the base of his skull, at the spot where Julian had accessed the implant to permanently shut it down.

“Hmm, yes, I think so...”

“So, tell me, doctor... since you could have easily done this minor sewing repair yourself, why come to me?” he teased, transparently fishing for compliments.

“First of all, for some reason I didn’t even _think_ about how I could apply the same technique to fabric, because sometimes I am astoundingly dumb despite how unquestionably brilliant I am. Second of all, I like watching you work... You just move so gracefully, and sometimes you get so absorbed in what you’re sewing that I feel like I can see all of your worries fading away from you for a moment. It’s nice seeing you so calm and serene. And third... I suppose I just liked having an excuse to hang out with you.”

“Well, as happy as I am to help you, the next time you want to see me, please don’t feel the need to find work for me to do,” Garak said. Julian snorted. “Truly, you are always welcome to drop by and brighten my day for any reason, my dear doctor. And, I’ve been thinking... we could have lunch together more often than once a week, you know... if you want...”

“Yes! I’d like that!” Julian’s smile was as radiant as the Cardassian sun. Garak gazed at him, held hostage by his beauty for a moment. He was completely mesmerized by the knowledge that this particular smile, this brilliant, gorgeous smile, right here, right now, was just for him. Garak smiled back, reflecting all of Julian’s light and warmth back to him.

After allowing himself that moment of pure indulgence, Garak returned his attention to the uniform he had just finished fixing. He expertly folded the uniform into a neat little bundle, and held it out to Julian.

Julian made sure to touch Garak as he took it, letting his long warm fingers drag softly across the back of Garak’s hand, a secret tryst beneath the folds of fabric. A desperate hope blossomed in Garak’s chest, despite all his efforts. And then it was over, and Garak hoped the degree of his undoing hadn’t shown on his face.

“See you in the Replimat tomorrow, then?” Julian said, still grinning.

“Of course! Barring any medical emergencies or fashion disasters, that is,” Garak agreed, his hands tingling distractingly where Julian had touched them, his heart still pounding.

*

Garak loved the way that Julian was so devoted to trying fix things rather than replace them, even when they were fragile and easily broken, like Kukalaka, or readily replaceable, like his uniform that he could have easily replicated a fresh copy of, or so damaged as to be hardly even worth the effort, like Garak himself.

He finished stitching Kukalaka’s newly restuffed arm back into place, and pulled on the end of the thread to cinch it neatly closed. It looked different than before, the arms slightly asymmetrical as a result of the fresh stuffing in the one he’d just reattached.

Garak still marveled at the ways that their lives were now woven so tightly together. Their shared quarters, for instance, were a testament to compromise. The temperature and the brightness of the lights were just a little outside of each of their ideal comfort levels. Their clashing interior design preferences lead to an aesthetic anarchy neither would have chosen on their own. The rule about Garak not replicating pungent rokassa juice until after Julian had eaten his breakfast was balanced with the rule about Julian placing his dirty clothes immediately in the hamper instead of leaving them in piles on the floor. Everything wasn’t always easy between them, but to Garak each compromise felt incredibly intimate, like a little declaration of love.

It would be impossible now to imagine waking up to anything other than the smell of Tarkalean tea, extra sweet. It would be unthinkable now to picture a reality where Julian wasn’t with him, their fingers interlaced, their bodies intertwined, their lives interwoven. Garak was certain that anything that threatened to pull them apart could be lovingly repaired with the threads that had drawn them together once before. Their shared interests and shared experiences; their close friendship; the way they simultaneously fascinated and frustrated each other, and never grew tired of each other’s company; their deep appreciation of each other’s minds; their unique understanding of each other’s worries and fears; their commitment—their continuous _choice_ —to keep loving each other.

That was really what it came down to. Their initial electric attraction and their wonderful friendship had, of course, both been strong foundations, but what sustained their relationship was their mutual desire to put in the effort to fix what needed fixing in order to make it work.

*

Julian breathed deeply as he slept. He was hugging Garak’s pillow to his chest and nestling the side of his face into it. Garak smiled at the sight. He was sure he would never get used to feeling wanted and missed. He placed Kukalaka on Julian’s bedside table and then sat on his side of the bed and delicately reclaimed his pillow from Julian’s arms.

Julian stirred sleepily in the starlight.

“Sorry for waking you, my dear,” Garak said softly.

“S’okay... Come here.” He grinned, and lifted one of his arms to give Garak room to slide under it. Garak laid down on his side, and allowed himself to be pulled backward into Julian’s warm inviting gravity.

“I love you,” Julian said against the back of his neck, while squeezing him in a hug. The happiness that always spread through Garak at those words felt better than the chemicals released by the implant ever had. Or at least it was a happiness that lasted much longer.

Garak drew Julian’s hand up and pressed his lips to it. “I love you too.”

“Thank you for fixing Kukalaka. I’ve never let anyone else do that... And it _wasn’t_ because you are a tailor and know how to sew... It was because I know you understand how much Kukalaka means to me.”

Garak rolled over to face Julian. “My dear, of course I understand! Kukalaka was at your side unfailingly during your loneliest, darkest years. Kukalaka knows your secrets and doesn’t judge you for them. And, more than that, Kukalaka represents the undeniable proof that _despite_ your parents’ invasive attempts to shape you for their own purposes, you’ve still managed to hold onto a bit of who you once were... and perhaps he is also a reminder that they don’t get to control who you might yet become. So... yes, I think I understand how much he must mean to you, because I know exactly how important _you_ are to _me_.”

Julian crushed his lips into Garak’s. It was desperate, passionate. When Julian pulled away, there were tears on his cheeks but he was smiling.

“Elim, you mean the world to me.”

They smiled and pulled each other impossibly close, no space left for Kukalaka in their embrace this time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to mustangsjoeka for editing!! ^_^
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated! <3


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